


tying the skies together

by eurekaa



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, and then make them chief strategist in a big ol medieval war, idk how to tag but i'll fix it Later, what happens when you hand some rando a magic gun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurekaa/pseuds/eurekaa
Summary: heroes are like stars, and you are inescapable gravity. you reach out and pull, and they all come crashing down to zenith.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. i summon thee

**Author's Note:**

> whatever may have come before was irrelevant. even if this were only a dream, you’d allow yourself to dream a little.

all the pretty words in the world can’t describe what it feels like to stop existing in one place and start in another.

maybe you could liken it to a fish caught on a hook; getting ripped out of your normal by the neck, up into the air, and there’s nothing but nothing around you.

things begin to form into place after a moment, details fizzing into existence like soda from a ruptured can. you’re sitting naked on the ground, and you hug yourself, panic biting at your senses through the haze of confusion.

“ooh, you’re here?”

someone's _here?_ you blink the spots out of your eyes, gaze landing on a redhead in garb you’d be likely to find at a renn faire.

“then the ritual actually worked? _ahem_ … oh great hero from another world!” she notices your nakedness, extracting from seemingly nowhere a thick white robe with golden filigree and tossing it over your head with much aplomb. “thou hast come so far to fulfill your role in our legend! for our kingdom now stands on the brink of ruin, and thou… and thou…”

you struggle to get your shaky arms to fit through the heavy sleeves, wanting to convince yourself you’re hallucinating, yet keenly aware of the cold hard ground beneath you, the thin air and how your lungs ache.

it has to be a hallucination, because anna von fire emblem is trumpeting some inane bullshit, and maybe you need to lay off the games for a while, because _what the fuck_.

“...hold on. are you really our great hero? you don’t look like the thee-and-thou type.”  
  
you don’t look like much of anything at the moment, in your honest opinion. you secure the robe around yourself, grateful for the cover and the warmth. “where am i? how did i get here?”   
  
she seems taken aback. what, was she expecting you to be silent and complacent for all of this? “you… fair enough. you’re in––”

“found you!” comes a new voice, along with the clatter of what you can only assume to be armor. around the corner dashes an axe-wielding man, visage obscured by a black helmet.

the anna lookalike mutters some unkind words. “how did they get here already? stand back! i’ll take care of him somehow!”

that ‘somehow’ doesn’t do much for your already frazzled nerves. taking her advice, you backpedal as fast as your groggy limbs can carry you, colliding with the massive marble wall of...whatever building you’re in.

everything is so cold, it feels like the air is growing spines as it whistles down your throat. anna charges forward with a cry, her own weapon hefted overhead. you don’t think to look away before it makes contact.

red––there is the red of her hair, flying wild; the red of her eyes, focused to a razor edge; the red drenching the front of her uniform. the intruder falls, gurgling, choking on red red red.

she turns, wipes at her forehead as her axe comes to rest on the ground beside her. “whew! now that _that’s_ taken care of,” she nudges the corpse with her boot before returning her focus to you. “my name’s anna. i’m commander of the order of heroes.”


	2. the legend / but not quite

usually, in these sorts of stories, the protagonist collapses into bed at the end of their first day – too exhausted to care about much. 

so you think, diligently brushing your teeth over the water basin in your temporary quarters. it’s something as trivial as this that has you finally realizing that you might not be dreaming. well, this and more.

what does going into shock really feel like? fanciful notions like the day just whizzing past you, numbness, going on autopilot – you _wish_ you could stop thinking, but it seems like that’s beyond you at the moment. instead you’re fixating on little things, like how the iron lattice over the window is somewhat imperfect, or how faded the pattern on the carpet beneath your feet is.

this isn’t a dream, or a hallucination. and you’re...surprisingly okay with it. perhaps in the morning, you’ll be jarred out of your complacency, but tonight, the moon – swollen and hanging brightly in a starry sky – can only observe you going about your mundane nightly routine.

anna was a meticulous woman. she’d had all sorts of provisions, even pajamas, prepared for you. it was only a  _ little _ terrifying that everything fit perfectly.

oh, there was that too. anna had gone from a redheaded and money-hungry caricature to. well. a human being. the look she’d given you when you asked her about her myriad of sisters with the same name was one you wouldn’t easily forget.

trivialities aside, your day ended up being the most lethal game of keep-away you’d ever played. enemy soldiers hounded you relentlessly, even after you’d summoned matthew and virion (an experience that had you nearly shouting at the sky about how ridiculous and contrived it was; what, was this some cheap gacha game?). luckily, your very small unit had met up with that of prince alfonse, whose retinue of guards covered your retreat well enough.

and after _that_ panic attack, anna had asked you your name, and you’d found a brilliant silver lining.

nobody knows you here. you’re from an entirely different world with a wildly different set of cultural norms. this is an opportunity to live a different life, however you want.

so you’d told her your name was kiran.

you hang your heavy, gold-trimmed cloak on the rack in the corner of the room. all of your day clothes are neatly folded and stored away, your face is washed, your teeth are brushed, and your bed is made. you climb in, pulling the sheets under your chin, and wait for tiredness to scratch at the backs of your eyelids.

sleep doesn’t come. obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yeah remember that thing i uploaded in may and then totally forgot about? me neither 8)


End file.
